In a previous blog, I described the place where our adopted boys were living when the state took them into custody. I think about taking our oldest back to see the area. At the proper time, a visit will help him let go of his experiences there.
He and I talk about where he came from occasionally. It does not happen often because he generally avoids the subject. He would usually rather talk about my experiences and friends. We have discussed every scar on my body. We have talked about my parents and siblings. He asks a lot of questions. These discussions are very healthy in acclimating him to his new family.
Our adoption social worker told me everything that would happen in our talks. She said that he would want to know all about me and that he would be very guarded in what he told me about his past. She also said that any serious discussions about him would be started by him and that they would happen when we were not face to face.
She has many years of experience. I was not surprised when all of this happened just as she said. The discussions happen occasionally when he and I are in the car going somewhere. He is always in the backseat so we are not face to face.
One day, we were driving along and he asked why his birth mother did not take care of him. Another time, out of the clear blue, he asked how the state got permission to take him from his home. It’s always a shock because I assumed that he does not think about these things very often.
Recently, I was able to initiate a conversation about his early life. We had visited my daughter who lives in central Houston. The drive back to our house took us through one of Houston’s seediest areas. Walter noticed how rundown everything was and how desperate the people looked.
I was able to describe the plight of the people living in that area and tie that in to his early life. I told him that his former neighborhood was as bad as the area we were driving through. Then we talked about the fact that my wife and I had worked to help people like those that we were seeing. I said that we had wanted to take children out of the bad neighborhood and adopt them so that they could be safe and happy.
I was the one to receive the blessing that day. My seven-year-old son told me that he was glad that he did not live in a place like that. But, he wants to go back to his old neighborhood to help the people someday.